A Life Day or Two
by RenewalXVII
Summary: Poe Dameron wonders when his friends' life days are, and is horrified when they apparently don't have one.
Poe Dameron, handsome, dashing, the best pilot in the Resistance—and to the surprise of many, the darling of the Resistance's bureaucracy. Yes, at the end of the day, one Poe Dameron was the single most diligent filer of paperwork in the Resistance, a quality that perhaps played no small role in his rise to leadership in Starfighter Command.

Or, as General Organa said: "Might as well put someone who actually enjoys the damn paperwork in charge."

Thus, Poe's proclivities to paperwork placed him in an indispensable position during downtime between starfighter deployments, as an informal manager and courier between the invisible cogs of the great bureaucratic machine and the freedom-fighting forces of the Resistance—the whole process simply became that much smoother under his careful eye. When Poe got his hands on paperwork, red tape wasn't so much cut as it was neatly rolled up and handed back to the provisions department. (It was often said that General Organa's caf intake dropped by nearly fifty percent the day she finally caved and dumped half her paperwork load on Poe—not that he minded.)

Naturally, in the aftermath of the Starkiller mission, it fell to Poe to handle Rey and Finn's formal admission and registration with the Resistance. He brought one datapad to Rey before her mission to find Luke Skywalker and another to Finn when he awoke from his unconsciousness weeks later to fetch their personal details, filled out the necessary yet nigh-incomprehensible recordkeeping associated with their files, and promptly moved onto other bureaucratic business.

Diligent as Poe was, it never occurred to him to double-check certain gaps in his new friends' records.

* * *

So came a nondescript afternoon at the latest Resistance base, where Finn and Poe managed to grab a meal together in one of their rare shared breaks—pilots like Poe and infantry like Finn often had wildly disparate schedules. It was an amicable moment, if brief and quiet: Poe was a fan of working meals, managing minor bureaucratic messes from his datapad, while Finn looked on with fond exasperation. (Seriously, how could someone who could shoot down nearly a dozen TIE fighters in the span of ten seconds enjoy something as mind numbing as _paperwork_?)

Most days Poe would enter a sort of trance, still listening to Finn's rambling conversation and nodding along appropriately, but with a calm zen focus as his fingers danced over the surface of his datapad. Now however, Poe's brow crinkled in consternation as a file flagged as incomplete appeared in his inbox.

"Hey Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"You never wrote down your life day on your registration. That's got to be coming up, right? You've been with the Resistance for months."

"Oh, I skipped that bit. I don't have one."

"… _what_."

* * *

To the First Order and a man such as General Hux, who glorified a stormtrooper corps built upon indoctrination and the suppression of all individuality and will, something as trivial as a life day would of course be ignored. FN-2187 was the only number that mattered.

To Poe, raised on Yavin 4 by loving parents in a close-knit community where everyone knew everyone, life days were practically the framework that defined colony life. Life days were a reason to get together, a chance to meet up with your neighbors, and most importantly, a touchstone for the beating heart of any community: celebrating the growth of their children in peacetime.

That anyone could just _not have a life day_ was unthinkable. As soon as the words slipped from Finn's mouth, Poe's eyes—so focused on his datapad a moment before—zeroed in on Finn's, with the razor focus that so often spelled doom for enemy pilots. Finn hadn't been so uncomfortable in his friend's presence since the day they escaped the _Finalizer_ in a stolen TIE. "What do you mean, 'what'?"

"I'm thinking I must've misheard. I thought you just said you don't have a life day."

"Yeah, I don't." Finn shrugged. The whole idea did seem a little silly to him—why would anyone feel the need to celebrate getting older? "What of it?"

"…this must be _rectified._ "

Finn barely had the time to put his fork down before Poe pulled him from the mess hall table.

* * *

They found Rey—as she often did since returning triumphantly with Luke Skywalker—meditating with the last Jedi. Finn's bewilderment and Poe's roiling zeal at correcting a gross injustice alerted the two Force sensitives moments before they barged into the quiet room that the two had claimed for her Jedi training.

"Master Skywalker, Rey—help me out here!" Poe's plea interrupted the greeting on Rey's lips, and she rose awkwardly from her seated meditation position. Even before she could get a chance to ask how she might help, Poe's zoomed ahead, words flying from his mouth fast as his X-wing.

"Finn here is saying he doesn't have a life day! And that's crazy, right? How could anyone just not have a life day? Growing up, getting older: life day's all about celebrating where you've been, how you get here and where you're going. It's so important! And Finn here's been missing out!

"Not to mention how much _fun_ it is! The party, the cake, seeing everyone together celebrating _you_ … And not to mention the presents! Seriously, I need to tell you about my seventh life day…"

Rey blinked.

Finn only half-shrugged in apology; she could sense that he had no more clue what was going on in their friend's head than she did.

Master Skywalker smiled his typically inscrutable half-smile, and the twinkle in his eye—so rare when they had first met, but brighter now that he was with his sister again and training a student once more—shone with equally inscrutable brightness.

And Poe rambled on.

"So help me out! You've got to have an idea about how to celebrate Finn's life day!"

Master Skywalker laughed. "I had the singular misfortune of sharing my life day with Empire Day." The three youngsters in the room flinched mildly, even though none of them had ever truly experienced the spectre of the Empire looming overhead. "Though I could share some stories…?"

Poe grimaced, his enthusiasm at last dampened somewhat. "Sorry, but that's okay." He turned to Rey. "What about you Rey? Any suggestions?" His brow crinkled again. "Actually, come to think of it, when is _your_ life day? It must be coming up, too…"

Rey shook her head, at last understanding the source of all these shenanigans. "Sorry Poe, but I'm in the same freighter. I don't have a life day either—or at least, I don't remember it."

Poe's jaw dropped, his handsome features aghast.

" _What!_ "

* * *

Needless to say, Poe Dameron was on the warpath in the aftermath of that revelation. The man who could get paperwork moving like no one else brought activity on the Resistance base to a screeching halt—as of right now, nothing was more important than making up for twentysomething years of missed life days for the two most important people in his life.

Despite the pilot's fervor, most others were reluctant at best to pitch in—Poe was well liked, and nearly everyone owed him a favor for covering their paperwork at one point or another, but seriously? All this, just for a life day party?

At least, until General Organa stormed into the hangar where Poe was haranguing his subordinates into preparing a Wookiee-sized sheet cake for the entire base to enjoy, and let out a polite cough. Five feet, one inch tall, arms crossed and one foot tapping idly, Leia Organa waited as the storm of activity swept up around Poe's frenzy froze in a mix of guilt and relief. Even Poe had the good grace to let a little shame creep into his expression.

Luke was the only left in good humor. He pointed at his student and the last member of the trio. "We have a life day or two to catch up on."

Leia blinked, sighed, and shook her head. She swept her gaze across the room, calmly meeting the eyes of everyone involved one by one.

"Well? What are you waiting for? We're about to throw the biggest damn life day party ever, haven't you heard?"

* * *

And it was. Everyone agreed it was even better than the party thrown after the Starkiller was destroyed, and that one had lasted three days. Even C-3PO enjoyed himself. Stories would abound for months, and already there was talk about planning for next year's.

But for Poe, all that mattered were the smiles on Rey and Finn's faces, basking in the warmth of their newfound family. That the two of them—alone and basically unwanted for so long—could have a day just for themselves, for nothing other than being alive one more year. That was what he cherished most.

Well that, and the holo he had saved when Master Skywalker flung cake into their faces, in the name of Jedi training. The old master knew how to _party_.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just an indulgent bit of fluff quickly thrown together as a belated birthday gift for a friend. It's not much of an original concept, but it was still quite fun writing it all out. I hope you got a smile or two out of it!


End file.
